To the bat cave.

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Passport still not ready, so we bus it back to Bangkok, then straight onto another out of there, northeast. Everywhere rammed full of people trying to get home for Songkran, the traditional Thai new year. I spend most of the journey with one cheek either side of a seatbelt receptacle.

We stay in a place just outside Pak Chong, right on the edge of the Khao Yai National Park (the first and largest in Thailand). Find a guest house with a pool and sign up for a 2-day trek.

Our trek guide for day 1 is Tommy - 50-something Thai bloke who spent a few years in Texas, so his English has a mid-western drawl, and he peppers his speech with 'man' and 'sheeeeeet'. He remembers all of our names instantly (impressive as there are 7 of us). We pile into a pick up and head off to a bat cave.

I'm sure there's more to it, but Songkran (Thai new year) seemed largely to be an excuse for Thais to drink all day and chuck water over each other and anyone else within range. In our case this meant being soaked whilst riding in the back of the pick-up by groups of people lining the roads - with barrels of water, hosepipes, water pistols, and having talc dabbed on our faces. It's all good natured and done with a smile, and is a good way to keep cool in the 40-degree heat. One lairy drunkard shouts "ferk you" as we drive past. Tommy does a starsky-and-hutch emergency stop and chases him down the road.

The bat cave is about an hour's drive away. As we pull up to a few derelict buildings, 3 dogs run alongside us, barking and pawing at the driver's door, tails wagging. It soon becomes clear that they're used to Tommy bringing them a bag of biscuits whenever he comes.

Tommy takes us up to the bat cave, the dogs waiting outside for him. He crawls around in his flip flops, poking his finger into a bird-spider's lair, and pointing some rock formations he thinks might be fossils, and different types of bats hanging from the ceiling. He fearlessly holds up a huge centipede to show us. and then passes it to Paula, who holds it, but not quite fearlessly and quickly hands it back when it starts to crawl up her arm. Despite doing this every day, he's passionate and proud about what he's showing us, and anxious that we enjoy ourselves.

Back in the pick-up for a ten-minute drive along a dirt track, the dogs following behind at full pelt. We arrive at the side of a large rocky hill to the sight of millions of bats streaming out of a cave above us and off into the distance. It happens everyday apparently - they leave just before sunset to go out hunting, and return before dawn. You can just hear their squeaks and the sounds of millions of tiny wings beating. We're there for about an hour, and the stream shows no sign of slowing - it's constant and goes off as far as we can see, and they then break off into hunting packs.

Tommy reckons there's 2 million easy. There's a few peregrine falcons circling in the thermals above, and we watch as they swoop down into the stream to pluck off their tea.

Whilst showing us this, Tommy removes some ticks from the dogs lying prone at his feet. He has twelve at home (dogs, not ticks), and his wife has told him no more, so he can't take these ones - he just feeds them whenever he can.

On the way back he does another emergency stop, then sprints off into a hedge following a green snake he'd spotted crossing the road. Tommy is a god.

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Photos

Songkran soaking
Check out the small girl with the water pistol. (That's not Paula by the way).

Tommy
with centipede, not millipede.

Bats
leaving the bat cave.

Tommy and his bitches.
And Paula.